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Sublime Task Force Whiskey Cobra
Sublime Task Force Whiskey Cobra is a mercenary company renown for the diversity of its methods, its moral ambiguity, and for the great distances it has traveled in pursuit of the next job. Numerous wild tales circulate the wastes, attributing the destruction of raiders gangs, the sacking of villages, and the plundering of Pre-War sites to the fearless soldiers of the STFWC. Many adventurers, itinerant heroes, and desperadoes have claimed membership in the past. However, Sublime Task Force Whiskey Cobra does not exist, and never did. The real STFWC isn't an army, rather it is a collection of jokes, references, one-liners, non-sequiturs, and invented anecdotes shared between friends. Originating in Vieux Carré, it spread northward and westward by word of mouth. As it moved along and was picked up, the canon was expanded to include local flavor. Any group of people who pick up on it invariably create their own in-jokes. Familiarity with the lore let's someone participate in the camaraderie of a crude hive-mind that the participants find humorous, while breaking one of the unspoken rules can out someone as a square. Recurring Themes *Do You Even Precog?: Outsiders listening to an STFWC jam often wonder how the participants often finish each other's sentences, seemingly without error. This is the proper response. When a square asks for details, those in the jam each relate a part of the explanation which they must improv. Some of the better-regarded explanations include the STFWC being connected by a psychic Super Mutant and all members of the STFWC having learned to see the future by combining Turbo, Mentats, and irradiated cobra venom. *Fort Worth: The company's finest hour was a mission in the ruins of Fort Worth, but nobody who was there can talk about the details. There would be serious repercussions, after the initiator mentions Fort Worth, each other person has to cite one of the horrible consequences of breaking their silence on Fort Worth. *Power Armor: "I joined for the power armor." and "I was promised power armor." are common reasons recruits agree to the high stakes lifestyle of the STFWC. Nobody ever receives the armor, this is a common source of complaints. *Paramilitary Membership: In a similar vein to promises of wells of free power armor, many self-identifying recruits of the STFWC tell tales of being promised the immediate chance to pilot Vertibirds and other varying aircraft models once joining, most of which are described as fully-functional, Pre-War variants. The source of this staggering array of tech is said to actually be mined, with rich veins of subterranean military store houses (equipped to the brim) found in uncanny quantities all within the hills and the deep layers earth that comprise the greater wasteland. The alleged existence of these veins have even managed in driving a few of the most optimistic into frequently risking their lives in a career of traversing tunnel works, sewers and caves, hoping to one day cry "Eureka" as their pickaxes strike the nose of a fresh Vertibird. *Future Technology: There are a few recycled tales that flutter about circles of wastelanders that vividly describe the STFWC going to war equipped with weapons and vehicles technologically advanced perhaps five, ten or even fifty years ahead of any other military paraphernalia that existed in the last days before the nukes rained from the skies. Some say STFWC have invented (or found) time travel; or perhaps a means to access an alternate dimension where the war never happened. Others say that these are actually astronomically rare prototypical inventions once hidden deep within abandoned military bases, found by the Task Force only by the merits of their godlike scavenging abilities, all strangely built by scientists many decades ahead of their time. Regional *The Lost Prince (Origin, Corpse Coast): The slavers will deny it to their dying breath, but the STFWC rescued a (Bolivian/Peruvian/Egyptian/Roman/Whatever) Prince from being sold on The Lexxx. The Prince awarded them with exotic treasures. A proper jam details increasingly baroque, ornamental phallic-shaped objects. *more like Scour Armor (The Capitol Wasteland): told by salty old men and guns-for-hire, it recounts how a squad of the STFWC defeated an entire chapter of Brotherhood/Enclave (Depending on region) with scavenged weapons. One person lists a weapon that might pierce power armor, with every subsequent person naming something more-and-more unlikely to work. Category:History